


Neapolitan Complex

by aurora_australis



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Banter, F/M, Ice Cream, New Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 06:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_australis/pseuds/aurora_australis
Summary: Peggy isn’t the best at taking a break.Daniel decides to get creative.Honestly, though, the tags say it all.





	Neapolitan Complex

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by allysketches’ truly fabulous [Peggysous drawing](https://allysketches.tumblr.com/post/185301262944/here-i-am-again-with-another-peggysous-drawing).
> 
> Many thanks to Fire_Sign for the beta read!

“Yes, well, thank you very much, you’ve been _extremely_ unhelpful.”

At Peggy’s words, Daniel grimaced in advance - her angry goodbye to whichever undersecretary of whichever agency she had been trying to get information out of today would almost certainly be followed by the sound of the phone’s handset crashing into the receiver.

_BANG_

He was not disappointed.

Glancing up from the file he was looking over, Daniel caught the end of Peggy’s emphatic hang up, saw her check for damage and thankfully find none in the aftermath. She’d actually cracked a handset earlier in the week, so small mercies, he supposed. Peggy removed her hand from the phone and rubbed her temples, and Daniel grimaced again.

Four weeks. Four weeks since Jack had been shot and very nearly killed and they still had no leads. Four weeks of dead ends, and lost sleep, and getting nowhere. And because it seemed to be taking up all of their time, also getting nowhere was the original reason she had stayed in LA. 

Them.

There had been time together of course. Late night dinners over case files, and early morning coffee during surveillance, and kisses no less ardent for their stolen nature, but it wasn’t enough. Not enough for Daniel, certainly, who so badly wanted to do this right, court her properly. Well, as properly as was possible with a girl who thought the solution to most problems was a solid right hook. Not that he thought Peggy minded their unconventional relationship progression. Which, frankly, was another sticking point - he wasn’t quite sure _what_ Peggy wanted at this point. After four weeks, she still didn’t seem to be going out of her way to make time for them as a couple.

Daniel tapped his fingers on his desk absentmindedly. It's not that he was _worried_ , per se. She was certainly affectionate enough when they had a moment alone and she was hardly avoiding him; in fact they were together all the time. It’s just that they were usually working, an arrangement that might have felt like a fair trade if they were making progress with Jack’s case, but as of yet they were not. Daniel sighed.

The whole situation was clearly taking its toll on them both, but stalling out on Jack’s case was especially hard on Peggy, who wanted so desperately to _do_ something. She was a woman of action and getting the runaround from bureaucrats in Washington was the antithesis of doing. 

So yeah, Peggy’s frustration was understandable. 

It was also proving to be hell on the office equipment. 

From his open office door, Daniel watched Peggy carefully, saw the tight lines around her eyes, the grim set of her mouth, and made a spur of the moment, decidedly un-Chief-like decision.

Grabbing his crutch from the wall, he strode out into the bullpen. “Carter!” he called, not stopping on his way to the stairs. “Grab your gear, you’re with me.”

Behind him he heard her gather her purse and jump up to follow him.

“Where are we going?” she called from over his left shoulder.

“We got a lead,” he said, just as she caught up to him at the top of the stairs.

“In Jack’s shooting?” she asked. Daniel saw the hope in her eyes and regretted, just for a moment, his plan. 

_The greater good_ , he reminded himself. 

“No, no, another case.” Daniel started down the stairs, Peggy at his side. “But if it makes you feel any better, there’s a good chance you’ll get to punch someone.”

Peggy stopped briefly and shot him a glance sideways. “How good?”

“50/50?”

Daniel saw her consider the odds and he bit back a smile. 

“Fine,” she acquiesced as they reached the bottom step and made for the exit. “But if I don’t, I shall be very put out.”

“Noted,” he said, waving to Rose as they passed and leading Peggy to his car.

Once they were both inside he began to drive, passing landmarks and palm trees, getting closer and closer to the ocean. 

After a few minutes of companionable silence - and Daniel was surprised she hadn’t started peppering him with questions as soon as they got in the car, but also wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth - Peggy sat up a little straighter and narrowed her eyes. She surreptitiously cast a glance in his direction, then again out the window.

“Where did you say we were going?” she asked.

“I didn’t.”

Peggy raised an eyebrow. “Daniel....”

“Yeah?”

“Where are we going?”

“As it happens… here.” Daniel pulled the car into a spot near a long stretch of sidewalk overlooking the ocean. 

“This isn’t a lead,” she said flatly.

“Why do you - ”

“You followed every traffic signal, never looked at a street sign - you obviously knew exactly where you were going - you haven’t briefed me at _all_ , and, quite frankly, you’re too relaxed.”

And right then Daniel realized the tactical disadvantage of dating a spy. 

“So,” she continued, “do you want to tell me what we’re _actually_ doing?”

He could lie, tell her of course they were following a lead, but he’d already lied to her once today and that was once more than he would have preferred, so instead he just asked her, “Do you trust me?”

Peggy opened her mouth in surprise. Closed it. Opened it again.

“Yes,” she finally said, soft but sincere.

“Good.” Daniel nodded his head towards the sidewalk outside. “Follow me.”

Daniel exited the car and headed towards a little shop on the corner, Peggy right beside him. They entered together and Peggy paused. Before them was a counter, a low set freezer, and an enormous sign listing over a dozen flavors of cold confectionery treats.

“This is an ice cream parlour,” she said, rather unnecessarily. 

“Excellently deduced, agent,” Daniel teased. He smiled at her then continued up to the counter.

“Good afternoon,” he said to the young lady behind the register. “I’ll have a cone with chocolate bits and pistachio nut, and the lady will have…?”

“Kittens, Daniel, the lady will have kittens!” Peggy finished for him. “What on earth possessed you to pull me away from work in the middle of the day to get _ice cream_?”

Daniel threw the somewhat startled girl behind the counter what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Give us a minute, would ya?” He led Peggy a few feet away to converse more privately.

“I thought it might be a fun surprise,” he offered.

Peggy crossed her arms. “What in our shared history led you to believe I would enjoy such a surprise, or, for that matter, being led anywhere on false pretenses?”

“Well, Peg, if our history has taught me anything, it’s to live in hope. And always carry at least one weapon.” He grinned at his own joke, but Peggy just cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. Daniel sighed. “Peggy, you’ve been killing yourself lately trying to get some traction in Jack’s case. You could use a break. _I_ could use a break. Just a little one. And look, I’m sorry I lied to get you out of the office, but can you at least see I was trying to do something nice?” 

“What I see, Daniel, are the odds of my punching someone on this excursion going up by the moment.”

“Peg…” Daniel implored. The look he shot her then was the one his mom had dubbed “puppy dog sad eyes.” It was fighting dirty, but Daniel could throw down in the gutter too, and their shared history had taught him that sometimes that was also necessary.

Peggy sighed, but her expression softened as she did. “Yes, alright, I can concede this was a well intentioned enterprise. I just… I feel guilty, that’s all. Leaving work, I mean,” she added quickly. “In the middle of the day.”

“And we’ll go back after, I promise, but for just a little bit, do you think I could take you out on a date? A real, proper, incredibly short date?” Peggy looked almost swayed, so Daniel pulled out one last stop. “We could go undercover,” he suggested.

“As what?” she asked. “And for what purpose?”

“Two people out for an ice cream in the middle of the afternoon. Perfect cover. Terrific opportunity to scope out the area. It’s a rough neighborhood, you know. Tons of crime.”

Peggy glanced out the window at the idyllic surroundings. “Yes, a veritable hell on earth.” She sighed once more, but this time she smiled as she did. “Oh alright. One ice cream.”

“Thank you,” he said with as exaggerated a bow as his crutch would allow. They returned to the counter where the girl had his cone waiting. He took it from her with a thanks and looked at Peggy.

“I’ll have a neapolitan,” she told the girl. Once she had been served, Daniel paid and they returned outside. 

“Shall we walk?” Peggy suggested. Daniel nodded in agreement, and they began to stroll along the sidewalk, side by side, enjoying their ice creams. After a moment, Daniel looked over and noticed that Peggy seemed to be enjoying hers a bit faster than he thought necessary, though whether that was because she was starving (he was fairly certain she’d skipped lunch again today) or because she wanted to hurry back, he wasn’t sure. Either way he wasn’t going to be rushed himself, and leisurely licked at his cone, glad she had one more scoop than him to get through at any rate. 

Continuing their walk, Peggy eventually took a brief break from her own cone to give a pointed look at his. “So chocolate bits and pistachio nut - any particular reason you chose those?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well when we walked in you didn’t even look at the list.” Suddenly she looked a little uncertain. “Oh, did you used to come here with…?”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, I’ve only come here on my own.” He gave a quick look at his cone. “l, uh, I dunno. Habit I guess. This is what I used to get whenever I went to Coney Island.”

“Did you go to Coney Island a lot?”

“I did. Especially before… but after too. One of the things I miss most about New York actually.”

“Do you miss a lot about New York?” Peggy asked.

Daniel considered her question. “I do. Sometimes. My family, of course. The Dodgers. The delis. The jazz scene.” He paused. “There was this girl I missed. A lot. But that situation seems to have… improved.”

“Lucky break.” Peggy replied with a smirk, and Daniel couldn’t help but agreeing.

“It really, really was.” Another pause. “Do you miss anything about New York?”

Peggy quirked her lips. “Not much except my roommate, Angie, though I’m hoping to tempt her into giving pictures a chance.”

“Oh yeah? That would be great!”

“Oh that’s right, you’re familiar with Angie’s theatrical talents,” Peggy teased.

Daniel rolled his eyes, but was delighted to realize she seemed to be taking more time with her ice cream. “Yeah. We’ve met. A misunderstanding about your lease I think.” Peggy snorted. “So that’s it? Don’t miss anything else about New York?”

“The pizza was quite good.” Peggy shrugged. “Honestly, I wasn’t in New York long enough to miss much. It’s not like it was ever really home.” Then she smiled a smile Daniel would have called shy if she was anyone but Peggy Carter. “There was this boy that might have changed that, but he left town before I did.”

“Fool,” Daniel said, and Peggy’s smile turned from shy to amused. “Ok, so New York wasn’t home. What about England? Do you miss anything in particular from there?”

Peggy hesitated. “You’ll laugh.”

“I won’t,” he promised.

She took a deep breath. “The weather.”

Daniel raised his eyebrows. “The… weather? Isn’t it always cold and rainy in England?”

“Not… always. But often. And that’s what I miss, I suppose. The rain, it’s… bracing. Steadying. It gives you time to think.”

“I’da thought all it gave you was a cold.”

“There’s an entire island of people there, Daniel, we don’t _all_ have the sniffles _all_ the time.”

“My apologies, for both my erroneous assumption and California’s unforgivable abundance of sunlight.”

“Yes, haha, make your little joke. But that is part of it. It’s so... _bright_ here, everything feels whitewashed and very exposed. You lose the nuance of shadows.” 

Daniel threw her an incredulous look - who could miss shadows? - that Peggy immediately caught and misinterpreted. “Oh nevermind,” she said. “Let’s just head back, it’s getting late.”

She moved to turn, but Daniel stopped her with a light hand on her arm. “Peg… stop. Please. I want to hear.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

“No, but I know _you’re_ going to say it. And that’s the point. I want to hear your thoughts on everything, including, as it happens, the weather. Please. Give us this time.” She still looked uncertain, so he nodded at her ice cream. “Besides, you still have half a neapolitan there; you can save the world once you finish.”

The look she gave him then wasn’t uncertain, it was just frustrated.

“I’m not saving the world, Daniel, I’m not doing anything!”

Daniel sighed, a little frustrated now himself. “Peggy, I realize we’re not currently battling communist assassins or homicidal actresses, but we’re finally, _finally_ getting some time alone together off the clock. A rare opportunity to interact as regular people, get to know each other outside of work… this isn’t nothing. It _matters_. And, I guess… I guess I wish it mattered more to you.”

When she didn’t say anything in response, Daniel fought his first instinct, which was to retreat and regroup, and decided to try an advance instead. After all, she had been brave in his office all those weeks ago, he could be brave now. So instead of pulling away, he slid his hand further down her arm and gently laced their fingers together. Peggy quietly looked down at their joined hands for a moment and then she, well she _huffed_ , there was really no other word for it.

“Daniel, I realize it may not look this way from the outside, but I’m not at all opposed to spending more time together or getting to know each other better - I’m just not very good at this,” she admitted, not meeting his eye. “Or, rather, I don’t _know_ if I’m good at this. Being a regular person. On a regular date. I’m not even entirely sure how to begin; I don’t have much practice.”

He opened his mouth to contradict her statement and realized he couldn’t. Peggy always played things close to the vest, but she’d definitely never mentioned a beau in New York, not after, well… And her interactions with Dr. Wilkes certainly couldn’t be called regular dates. Daniel had a sudden, startling revelation that he was probably much more familiar with the practice of dating than Peggy Carter. 

Huh.

Except… except Peggy Carter was the least regular person he knew and thank god for that. She was the most incredible person and the most bewitching woman and the best damn agent he’d ever met. And, her understandable nerves aside, they both knew what she was very, very good at. 

Peggy Carter never backed down from a mission.

An idea started to form and Daniel smiled to himself. “You know,” he began slowly, casually, squeezing her hand once before letting go, “we still need to come up with our cover identities.”

And then it was Peggy’s turn to shoot him an incredulous look. 

“For this dangerous, seaside scouting mission, you mean?” She took another bite of her ice cream to drive home her point, which Daniel promptly ignored.

“Exactly. We should work on our backstories. Get to know each other better. Our covers, I mean. For verisimilitude.”

After a moment, Peggy nodded slowly in understanding. “For verisimilitude,” she agreed. 

“Great! So…” Daniel paused, then laughed. “You know, now that we’re doing this, I can’t think of a thing to ask you.”

“Well, I should think the first thing we need are names.”

“That would help,” he agreed. “How about… Marge?” 

“For you or me?” she shot back, all her previous uncertainly gone in a moment. 

“I was thinking you,” he told her. “But I can be flexible.”

“Good to know,” she told him, just innocently enough for plausible deniability. Unfortunately, nobody told the blush creeping up his ears. Peggy laughed. “Fine, I’ll be Marge. And you can be… Aloysius.”

Daniel stopped, his ice cream halfway to his lips, a thoroughly unamused expression on his face. Peggy looked back at him with a tiny, challenging wriggle of her head. “Unless that’s a problem?”

Daniel met her look of challenge with one of his own. “Al,” he compromised.

“So, Al and Marge… how long have they been sweet on each other?” Peggy asked.

“Who says they are?” Daniel asked.

“Anyone with eyes,” she said, softer than he expected and probably softer than she’d meant, but she didn’t backtrack and Daniel quietly grinned in response.

“Well then,” he said, “I couldn’t speak for Marge, but Al’s had it pretty bad for awhile now. And, lucky for him, I’d say they’ve just started dating.”

“Alright… and what do they do?” Peggy asked.

“Well, Al is the West Coast Bureau Chief of the SSR, and Marge is the best agent they have.” 

“Really stretching your imagination for these covers I see,” she noted wryly.

“In my defense, I’ve been a little busy lately. But I can tell you this - Marge is a bit of a nut.” At that, Peggy raised her eyebrows indignantly. Daniel leaned in conspiratorially and dropped his voice a bit. “Turns out she _hates_ perfect weather.”

Peggy narrowed her eyes, but they were laughing so Daniel decided to take the win. Then she shrugged. “Well tea is so much better with a little chill in the air.” 

“So it’s the tea she really misses, is it?”

“Perhaps. Though…” Peggy pulled a pair of red sunglasses out of her pocket and put them on. “These do help.” Then she reached into his inner jacket pocket for his own sunglasses. 

Her fingers skimming over his chest made his heart beat a little faster, and given the placement of her hand, there was no way she didn’t notice, but she had the good grace not to mention it. She pulled the glasses out and gently placed them on his face, her hands lingering slightly longer than they needed to as she did. “There. I think Al and Marge are sunglass people, don’t you?”

His only answer was a somewhat dopey grin, and the blinding smile she tossed him in response made him very happy for the shades.

“Shall we continue our walk?” Peggy asked, taking his right arm in her left. As they began walking down the sidewalk again, Daniel tried very hard not to be distracted by the closeness of her person, or the way her arm seemed to fit so perfectly in his own.

“Alright,” Daniel began, “so Marge misses the bad weather and the good tea. Anything else?”

Peggy thought for a second. “Rumbledethumps.”

“Bless you,” Daniel replied, and in retaliation, Peggy bumped his shoulder. Not enough to put him off balance but enough to make her point. Of course, Peggy didn’t really need to do much to put him off balance. 

“It’s a _food_ , Daniel.”

Daniel shot her a sideways glance. “Is that right?”

“It’s a dish my - _her_ grandmother used to make. It’s mostly potatoes, cabbage and onion.”

Daniel laughed. “I think you’re making this up.”

“I am not! It’s very popular in England. A bit like a bubble and squeak?”

“Ok, now I _know_ you’re making this up.”

“Oh well that’s quite big talk from someone whose national food is bizarrely named the ‘hot dog’.”

“Hey - don’t dispage anything I can eat one-handed at a ball game. That’s an invention better than anything Stark Industries has ever put out.”

“A thousand apologies, Daniel, for insulting such an efficient sausage ingestion method.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to America.” She snorted and he winked, realizing too late that she couldn’t see it under his glasses. “Ok so we’ve established she enjoys ridiculously named English food - is there anything in particular Marge won’t eat? And before you answer, C-Rations don’t count.”

Peggy thought for a moment. “Cauliflower.”

He gave her a sideways glance. “Cauliflower?”

“Mmmm.”

“Any particular reason?”

“We all had it so much during the war - during rationing you know - and now I just can’t stand the taste.”

“Well then I definitely won’t make that for dinner,” Daniel assured her, right before his brain caught up with his mouth. _Damn_.

Peggy, of course, didn’t miss a beat. “Are you planning to cook me dinner, _Chief Sousa_?” Peggy’s tone was teasing, her commitment to their game clearly much stronger than his, but there was an undercurrent of a real question there as well. Damn.

The way he saw it, Daniel had two options. Option one: abort, abort! Keep it casual, make a joke, keep playing the game, move on to another topic. Option two: steer into the skid and hope for the best.

Daniel had never been a cautious driver.

He stopped them short and turned to face her. Tipping up his sunglasses so she could see his eyes, he surprised them both with his absolute confidence. “I got a lot of plans, Carter, dinner’s just the start.”

“Marge,” she corrected, but he was pleased to hear a slightly breathless quality in her voice as she did.

“No.” Daniel let his glasses fall back into place. “These plans are just for Peggy Carter. They only ever have been. And you…” he grabbed his handkerchief and wiped the tip of her nose, “have a little ice cream just there.”

Peggy’s jaw dropped and for a moment she was silent. Then she laughed. Really laughed, head back, joy evident in her whole body. The incongruousness of such an innocent action after his charged words seemed to have set her off entirely and now that the dam had broke there was no holding back her delight. It was the most wonderful sound that Daniel had ever heard in his life, and he knew in that moment if he hadn’t been in love with her before, he sure as hell was now. 

And when she was done, Peggy took a deep breath and then his hand, which she used to lead him over to a bench overlooking the water. There they sat, quietly finishing their ice creams, all the while holding hands. 

“This was a good idea,” she finally said, removing her sunglasses and breaking the silence at last. “I’m sorry I, um…”

“Threatened to punch me?” Daniel offered, putting his own shades away.

“Yes, that.” She almost sounded contrite. Almost.

“Something tells me that’s just an occupational hazard to dating Marge.”

“But not Peggy.” She made an exaggerated gesture and crossed her heart. “Promise. I just…” She sighed, deep and troubled. “About our dating… it’s not _just_ being out of practice. I feel guilty.”

“For leaving the office? Peggy, it’s-"

“Not for leaving the office. Well not _just_ for leaving the office. I feel guilty for us. For this. For each time we take a moment for ourselves. Because we’re starting… something, and it feels unfair. Jack’s still stuck in the hospital, and besides sneaking him in pizza he’s deemed “barely adequate” once a week, I don’t feel like I’ve been able to _do_ anything.”

“And why should you be happy if he’s miserable?” Daniel posited, the other shoe finally dropping.

“I’m not a martyr, Daniel, but he’s my friend. And my colleague. And technically my boss, though I don’t think either of us really believes that. But the point is I want to help him. And if I can’t…”

“You will.”

“You sound so certain. But you don’t know.”

“I know _you_. I know you won’t ever stop trying to find his shooter or keep him safe. I know you’ll explore every avenue in LA for unturned stones. I know you’ll figure this out.” He pulled her hand up to his lips to brush a kiss across her knuckle. “And now I know you’ll do it all without touching a bite of cauliflower.”

This laugh was quieter, more thoughtful, reminiscent of one she’d shared with him in a file room over a year ago, but it was sincere and Daniel would take it. Besides, this one was also followed by a kiss, softer than usual, but no less ardent for it’s tranquil nature.

“And I know,” she said quietly, “that you’re in this with me ‘till the end.”

If Daniel was being honest, the next kiss was just ardent.

Once they broke apart, Peggy took another deep, steadying breath, stood, and held out her hand.

“Come on, Daniel, let’s get back to kicking those stones.”

Daniel nodded and they began heading back to his car, arm in arm once more.

“So…” he began. “What _does_ Marge like about California?”

“Well she quite likes the ice cream. And the company.”

“I’ll pass that on to Al. But really, what else? There has to be something. What about the movie business?”

“She’s not one for the cinema.”

“Yet.”

“Excuse me?”

“She’s not one for the cinema _yet_. We just haven’t found the right picture for you.”

“For my cover you mean. For Marge.”

“Right, sure, for Marge. So maybe Marge could spare a couple hours to see a potential candidate this weekend. And then maybe you and I could make more progress establishing these covers over dinner.”

“For verisimilitude.”

“Exactly.”

“I think Marge could spare the time.”

“Excellent.”

They reached his vehicle and broke apart to walk over to their respective doors. Before she got in, Peggy regarded him over the top of the car.

“Thank you again for today. You’ve made a girl from Twickenham very happy.”

Daniel smiled and started to lower himself, then stopped and pulled himself back up.

“Wait, you’re from Hampstead.”

“Well yes, I am, but Marge is from Twickenham.”

“Okay…” Daniel looked at her in confusion. “But everything else… that was Peggy, right?”

“Probably. Possibly. I suppose the only way to be sure would be to do this again as ourselves soon.” Then she was gone, disappeared below the sight line of the car top, leaving him, as she so often did, shaking his head in her wake.

And right then Daniel realized the tactical advantage of dating a spy. 

**Author's Note:**

> I know this show ended 3+ years ago, and I am _suuuuuper_ late to the party, but I love these two and allysketches’ artwork was just too adorable not to write this, ok? :-P
> 
> Seriously, though, all her work is amazing - [go check it out!](https://allysketches.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Rumbledethumps is a traditional dish from the Scottish Borders. The main ingredients are potato, cabbage and onion, and it is either served as an accompaniment to a main dish or as a main dish itself.
> 
> Most vegetables were not rationed in England during WW2, and cauliflower did indeed become a staple at most meals.


End file.
